Lonely Road
by Karashi
Summary: [Complete] The story is about a merchant named Addy, who she is and who she was, told through different perspectives. This is my first RO fiction. Please don't flame me.
1. Prologue

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.

Lonely Road

by Karashi

Prologue:

            A female merchant stands in front of a building in the busy town of Prontera. Her days of traveling had been difficult, seemingly overwhelming and above all... lonely. Hopefully all that will change today for there had been an announcement of an opening in the Jaded Crimson guild. The merchant brushed a few stray strands of her persimmon hued locks out of her gray eyes, took a deep breath and entered the recruitment area.  
            Inside, the young woman was stunned by the dozens of people vying for the available position. At the very end of the room, she spied a hunter sitting at a desk. His cheek rested against his palm, utter boredom evident in his yellow eyes as he listened to a pink haired mage.  
            "Who is that?" the persimmoned haired girl found herself wondering out loud.  
            "The members of Jaded Crimson are too busy to have everyone present, so they assigned Irlan Hue to conduct the interviews. Not a good sign..." a thief groaned.  
            "Why?" the female merchant asked.  
            "That man enjoys laughing at the expense of others." An archer shook her head.  
            Just then Irlan stood up.  
            "This is getting ridiculously tiresome." Irlan complained, running his fingers through his dark blue hair "So far, none of you louts are strong enough to be a guildmember. But I'm feeling generous today," he grinned wolfishly, "I'll ask a randomly chosen person here a question and if I like your answer, you'll be an official member of the Jaded Crimson guild. Sounds fair, doesn't it?" and without waiting for a response, Irlan pointed to a blonde female acolyte.  
            "You, what use would you be for the guild?" Irlan sneered.  
            "I could offer my healing services." She answered, her blue eyes wide and hopeful.  
            "I might as well buy myself some red potions at the rate you acolytes charge for heals! Next! You, the skinny swordie, what's the strongest monster you've managed to slay?"  
            "A savage sir." The swordsman piped.  
            "A savage?" the hunter smirked, "Are you sure it wasn't a savage babe? Come back when you've managed to slay a stronger beast. Oh ho! How about you, miss merchant?"  
            The gray-eyed merchant blinked in surprise, "The strongest creature I've slain? Well that would be-"  
            "That's not my question!" Irlan snapped, "I wanted to ask your name."  
            "My name?" she squeaked, "It's... Addy."  
            Irlan eyed her thoughtfully, his brows knitting together as if in deep thought. Addy clutched her bag tightly, thankful that no one knew how cold her hands were. The silence that filled the room was deafening.  
            Then there was laughter... loud, hard, mocking laughter.   
            And it was coming from Irlan,  
            "What sort of name is that?!" he guffawed, "How unimaginative, how boring. Did you really think being known as 'Addy' will get you in the guild? There are people with much more interesting names, White Hazard, Devil Snare Bane, Forged pain, and they aren't even good enough for the guild. So why don't you just go back to Alberta and try your luck in that backwater town?"

            "I'm wasting my time here." A deep voice loudly stated. The merchant turned to the voice in curiosity, temporarily forgetting the verbal barbs Irlan had hurled at her.  
            "What did you just say?" The hunter demanded, his yellow eyes narrowing dangerously at a silver haired, bright green-eyed priest.  
            "A guild that has a foul mouthed and undesirable person such as yourself is not one I wish to be part of." the priest responded.  
            "Perhaps you wish to settle things in a battle, your honor." Irlan growled, the last word spoken with malice rather than reverence.  
            "I do not bother with the likes of you." The priest remarked uninterested and turned to leave. There came an angry snarl from Irlan, and an arrow was fired, aimed straight for the priest. Pandemonium broke loose as the applicants rushed out of the building. Addy was roughly shoved to the sides and when she managed to gather her bearings, she could only gasp at what she saw.  
            The silver haired priest managed to avoid the arrow and with incredible speed, he bounded towards Irlan. In the span of time it took for Irlan to restring his bow, the priest managed to grab the arrogant hunter by the throat. The blue haired hunter was frightened at the strength of the priest's grip, and more importantly at the fact that he had difficulty in breathing.  
            "You picked the wrong priest to attack. While my kind is known for healing abilities, there are a rare few who choose to be hybrids. I happen to be one of them." The priest glowered, his bright green eyes flashing menacingly. "You are lucky I do not stain my hands with ilk, or I would have snapped your neck by now." With little else said, the priest released his hold on an unconscious Irlan.   
            By this time, the building was empty of people, save for Irlan, the priest and Addy. She watched the priest walk towards the exit, and was surprised to see him stop. He locked his bright green eyes on Addy, and she felt her face flush crimson.  
            "Are you hurt?" the priest asked, his tone gentle.  
            Addy shook her head, her heart beating madly in her chest.  
            "Good, we should leave this place, word travels fast and his guildmates should be arriving shortly."  
            Nodding, Addy quickly followed after the priest. She had expected him to walk away, and leave her behind as most people often did. So it came as a surprise to the persimmoned haired girl that the priest was still beside her even after they were at the outskirts of Prontera.  
            In silence they traveled, until they arrived at a fork in the road.  
            "Is this where we part ways?" Addy asked, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.  
            "Only if you wish it so." He answered casually. The merchant's gray eyes widened hopefully,   
            "No, I enjoy your company." She blushed, "And may I know your name, sir?"  
            "Warse." He said simply. "And if I heard correctly, you're Addy?"  
            It didn't appear to matter to Addy that she wasn't accepted in the guild. For it seemed her days of loneliness was to come to an end.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karash, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.

Chapter One  
  
            "For it seemed… her days of… loneliness… was to come… to an… end…" the raven-haired man wrote. This fellow is named Darin Carsen, but everyone just calls him The Scribe. And why shouldn't they? He had exceptional memory, enabling him to write down whatever someone was saying, in both long and short hand. His good penmanship also made his works easy to read. "Is this correct, Miss Addy?"  
            "Yes, that was how I met Warse." Addy smiled, patting the cheek of The Scribe. "He is so handsome, and so strong! The way he would take me in his arms to dance!" she sighed, "And he is so light on his feet!" She pulled The Scribe away from the desk to waltz, albeit awkwardly, around the room, maneuvering past the desk, some chairs, the bed and the closet.  
            "We danced in the Pronteran church, you know! On the feast day of the Whitewind, Warse waited until the bishop had gone and asked the musician to play a song on the organ. And we danced, round and round, laughing so loud and so hard that the bishop came back." Addy grinned, "But my Warse is too quick! He warped us outside in the blink of an eye! Just like that!" she snapped, releasing her hold on The Scribe as she continued to dance with an imaginary partner.  
            Darin quickly began to scribble everything the merchant had narrated.  
            "He never needed a blue gem, have I told you that? He had a Biretta of Gemstone, that lucky priest!" she sighed, seating herself onto the bed.  
            "Biretta of… gemstone…" The Scribe echoed and waited for Addy to continue.   
            But there came no lively chatter, no animated narration. Curious, he peered up from his parchments and ink well. The persimmon haired girl was gazing out the window with her gray eyes; there was an unusual aura of sadness surrounding her.  
            "Is that all you have to say about Warse?" he asked.  
            "Of course not!" she grinned, "Warse and I were in love, did I tell you that?"  
            "Only about fifty five times." The Scribe murmured.  
            "Just bear with me, I like to talk a lot." The merchant giggled, and began to narrate her most tender of moments with the silver haired priest.  
            "Two years had passed since that fateful day Warse left. He had left without telling me, but the church said that he was going on a pilgrimage. I think it was for a soul cleansing journey, or something. The church told me that every priest had to go through with this. And as they say, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.' I miss him terribly, do you think he misses me?" Addy asked, tilting her head.  
            "I'm… really not in the position to say anything." Darin sweatdropped. "I'm just The Scribe, I take down events, not get involved with them."  
            "You don't have to write this down, you know. Just… tell me what you think." She pressed. "Come on, a yes or a no will do."  
            The Scribe was unsure of what to answer when there came a knock from the door. The merchant bolted up from the bed and into the closet.  
            "That might be Warse! I can't let him see me like this! I-I-I-… oh could you get it for me?" Addy begged, hiding behind the clothes.  
            Wiping his brow in relief, Darin opened the door. He did not find a silver haired priest; instead he saw an assassin, a knight, and a female wizard.  
            The Sakkat covered the assassin's brown hair, but it did not hinder the view of his blue eyes. The wizard, though in her early twenties, had pre-mature gray hair due to a misfired spell. Her ashen locks were plaited into one large braid and crowning her head was an Erudite Circlet. The knight's auburn hair was hidden by his Helm, and with his visor raised The Scribe could see his brown eyes. Darin couldn't see if the knight was smiling or frowning because of the Iron Cain he was wearing.  
            Though diverse in apparel, one thing was constant. The three had an insignia of an intertwined dragon and eagle on the collar of their garments. Only one guild possessed such an emblem, and it did not take long for Darin to recognize these three were members of The Schattenjägers.  
            "We're friends of Addy." The assassin smiled.  
            "Miss Addy, it's your friends." The Scribe called, ushering the three guests into the small room. The merchant peeked behind the closet door to see if Darin was telling the truth.  
            "Tony! You're here!!" the merchant squealed, waving excitedly.  
            "His name's Tommas." The knight corrected.  
            "I know that!" Addy scoffed, "I just like teasing him with Tony. Tommy is just too… common, you know what I'm saying?"  
            "Don't forget about me, Addy!" the wizard declared brightly, gathering Addy to her ample bussom.  
            "Lucy!!!" she gasped, returning the hug.  
            "She calls Lucita Bell 'Lucy'?" the knight asked Tommas.  
            "That's nothing, you should hear what she calls the others." The assassin grinned.  
            "I don't know you, but hello!" the merchant waved to the uncomfortable knight.  
            "This is Kharnoz. He's the newest member of our guild."   
            "Oooo!! Congratulations Khars!"  
            "It's Kharnoz, not Khars." The knight frowned behind his Iron Cain.  
            "Don't be so uptight. Uptight knight! Hey, that rhymes!!" Addy chuckled.  
            "And what do we have here?" the wizard queried, skimming through the rolls of parchment Darin had been writing on.  
            "Dar is writing a manuscript about the citizens of Midgard. He's looking for stories and tales, and asked if I had any. I was more than happy to give him some material for his work." Addy explained brightly.  
            "Really?" Tommas raised his brows.  
            "Yes, Miss Addy's kind enough to share her experiences. She's given me invaluable information and possible plots." The Scribe praised.  
            "How about asking me?" Kharnoz volunteered, "I've been around and had my share of adventure. You could write all about it. What do you say?"  
            The Scribe hesitated, and glanced to the assassin and the wizard. Tommas averted his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Lucita did the same and fidget with her hair.  
            "O-okay, I'll accept your offer but after Addy finishes telling me her stories."  
            "Don't be silly! I'm just as interested in hearing Khars' tales, I don't mind if he tells them here." Addy gestured for them to sit.  
            "A-are you sure, Miss Addy?"  
            "Sure I'm sure! Go on, Khars, tell us a story!"  
            Before the knight could begin, the assassin spoke up.  
            "Addy, we have to leave now."  
            "What? So soon? You just got here!!" the merchant whined.  
            "Yeah, I haven't even started yet." Kharnoz frowned.  
            "Listen to the guildmaster Kharnoz." Lucita echoed. "Come on, you can tell your story to Dar next time we see him."  
            "I could always go to your guild's headquarters." The Scribe suggested.  
            "I'd go with Dar, but I promised to wait for Warse here. And he might be coming home any day now."  
            "Really? I'm glad to hear that, Addy." The guildmaster smiled warmly.  
            There came another knock at the door and in entered a toffee haired female acolyte.  
            "Miss Evional? It's time."  
            "Even Dar has to go?"  
            "I'm afraid so."  
            "That's alright Miss Addy, I can come back tomorrow." The Scribe assured her. "And this leaves me free to take down Mister Kharnoz's story."  
            "Great! Come on!" the knight grinned.  
            "No one leaves until I get a huggle!" Addy declared. Everyone in the room except for Addy sweatdropped. Still, the persimmon haired girl would not be denied the extra affectionate hug from each of them, not even The Scribe.  
            The acolyte waved goodbye to the group as they walked to the hallway until they disappeared down the stairs. Somehow, they managed to ignore the screams and manic laughter ringing throughout the stairwell. At the bottom of the steps was a priestess.  
            "Your destinations?"  
            "Morroc." Tommas answered.  
            "All four of you?"  
            "Yes." The Scribe nodded.  
            "Please come again, your visit is highly appreciated." The priestess gently said as she warped the group out of the insane asylum.


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karash, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.   
  
Chapter Two  
  
            Darin felt the abrupt change of climate slam hard against his skin. The asylum's temperature had been moderate, comfortably pleasant really, and the sweltering heat of Morroc made him itch in his tweed leggings. But still, he had a job to do and The Scribe takes his job very seriously. The three guildsmen started out into the desert where their head quarters was.  
            "The price we pay for having an assassin as our guildmaster." Lucita sighed, fanning herself with her hand. "Why are you so keen on the desert Tommas?"  
            "Sand men." The assassin grinned. "They provide protection from the bandits and they sometimes carry Katars."  
            "It's a good thing Addy isn't in our guild anymore, she'd never be able to get past them." Kharnoz observed.  
            "What about me?" The Scribe suddenly realized.  
            "I'll handle the sand men while you make a break for the door." The wizard smiled reassuringly. The Scribe was not convinced of his safety, but there was no turning back now. Not while there were tales to write down.  
            They walked under the blazing sun for what seemed like hours. Darin wasn't sure how much longer he could stand, when he saw the looming fort of The Schattenjägers.  
            "Here they come!" Kharnoz yelled, brandishing his Claymore. Tommas had already leapt towards one of the sandmen and began hacking away at the creature.   
            "Meteor Storm!!" Lucita cast. The Scribe didn't need to be told to run as the meteors descended. The monsters started to retreat, save for one stubborn sand man that decided to go after Darin.  
            The Scribe glanced over his shoulder and saw the oncoming monster. Hating the idea of what he had to do, Darin took out a full inkwell and threw it at the sand man, instantly blinding it.  
            "Double Straffe!!" Darin ducked in time as the slender projectile whizzed over him and straight for the sand man. The arrow's impact caused it to explode, showering The Scribe in grit.  
            "You alright?" a hunter with chestnut colored hair asked, wearing a monocle and a Feather Bonnet. The sprawled Scribe looked up to find the hunter's hand, which he gratefully took to stand himself. Kharnoz, Lucita and Tommas arrived shortly after.  
            "Hey Ollie, good to see you're back." The guildmaster greeted.  
            "It got boring at Payon."  
            "As heartwarming as this is, can we please go inside?!" The Scribe exclaimed.  
            "Oh right!"  
  
            At the dining hall, Kharnoz narrated his adventures to Darin, mostly tales of his bravery and his induction into the sacred order of the Knights. The Scribe jotted it all down without missing a beat. Tommas, Lucita and Ollie however had dozed off at some point.  
            "So you never met Addy until today?" Darin clarified as he added the period to the last sentence.   
            Kharnoz nodded, "I've only heard of her energy, and from that short encounter I can see they weren't exaggerating."  
            "What this I hear about Addy?" a voice asked, making Darin almost fall out of his chair and rousing the three sleeping guild members.  
            "Futari! I didn't know you were here." Kharnoz greeted the assassin who made himself visible. Futari removed his Sakkat and ran his fingers through his fiery red hair. Still, he kept his phantom mask on and set his headgear on the table.  
            "Who's he?" the assassin motioned to Darin.  
            "Oh, this is Dar, and he's looking for materials for his manuscript." The knight explained.  
            "Actually, I'm making a compilation of stories. Particularly those that include a certain 'persimmon haired girl' named Addy." Darin added.  
            "You remember her, don't you Futs?"  
            "Yeah, I do." He nodded.  
            "Great! So you don't mind sharing some of your stories with me? It doesn't have to be really personal, even trivial moments are fine." The Scribe urged.  
            "I'm not a good story teller…"  
            "That's alright, just start talking." Darin grinned, taking out a fresh roll of parchment and dipping his quill into the inkwell.  
            "Okay, I met Addy…"  
  
  
**Futari  
  
**            Okay, I met Addy when I was still a thief and she was still a merchant. What, she's still a merchant? I didn't know that… oh well, never mind, where was I? Oh yes, I met Addy in Alberta, some jerk acolyte warped me there on purpose. Good thing I snatched his wallet, as a precaution because this has happened to me one too many times.  
            I was making my way out of that port town, I don't really like the sea, it's too wet. This er… what was the term you used? Persimmon? That's like an orange colored fruit right? Honestly, I don't know why people make things sound so complicated. So I was trying to get out of town when this persimmon colored blur crashed into me. Now that I think about it, it was more of a bump than a crash because I was just nudged backwards.   
            There was a loud 'oomf' and I saw this merchant sitting flat on the floor, her bag and all its contents scattered on the ground. She wasted no time in picking up her things, stuffing them back in her pouch and running towards the departing ferry. Turns out she had overslept and was in danger of missing the last ferry to Izlude. Well, she actually _did_ miss the last ferry.  
            It wasn't my problem, but she just looked so miserable, staring out at the sea like some lost puppy. I may be an assassin (formerly thief), but I pride myself in having a conscience. Tommas has a conscience too, you know. So do Zcij and Blitzkrieg, but they're not in our guild.  
            Oh I'm getting off topic, it was because of my conscience that made me promise I'd accompany her to Prontera, I was supposed to be warped there in the first place. I really hate those acolytes who intentionally miswarp others, don't you?  
            She accepted my invitation and we went on our way to Prontera. Of course along the way we exchanged names, me volunteering my name first then she gave me hers. At first glance, she was sorta shy and quiet. But it didn't take her long to open up. And when she did, whoa did she talk up a storm!   
            I normally travel alone as I prefer to do things my way and go at my own pace, but being with Addy was… well… fun. I can't remember the last time I had laughed so much ever since I became a thief.   
            She was really worried about her fighting abilities, even killing a lunatic made her feel like she had just beaten the legendary Angelring. She wasn't weak per say, she just didn't know how to handle herself in battles.  
            I remember when we had gone to Culverts, we were both a little short on zenny. The job sounded easy enough, just clean out the sewers from the pests. There were dozens of us going into the sewers so I thought it would be an in-out job. How was I to know that there was tons of those thief bugs crawling everywhere?! And when a tarou brushed against Addy's foot I thought my head was going to explode from the pain! She had such a high-pitched shriek!  
            Well as you can see my head didn't explode but I couldn't hear out of my left ear for an entire week. Her scream was _that_ high and piercing. After the whole Culverts escapade, I learned never to go with her into the sewers again! Not that she wanted to go back in.   
            When we went back to Prontera, we got separated. I don't know how actually, one minute she was bickering with another merchant about the price of carrots and the next she was… gone.  
            I wasn't too thrilled in being alone again, but the independence was welcoming. I mean, I had to check if she was alright all the time. I'm not saying she's high maintenance, being with her just made me worry, you know what I'm saying?   
            I don't like to worry, which is why I travel alone. But I missed being in a party, even if we were the only two people were in it. I could be the talkative one or I could be the listener, either way I just wanted a human presence.  
            Many months later, almost a year really, I finally became an assassin. My guildmates had given me a Sakkat and a Phantom Mask as a gift to celebrate. It was a wonderful day, the sun was burning in all its glory over the sands. And I decided to teach those sand men a lesson. They almost killed me before, so it was payback time! Who would have thought my desire to get even with those monsters would result in a familiar persimmon colored blur to crash into me again.  
            "Out of my way!! Out of my way!!" she had screamed. From where I was still standing, I could see three sand men approach us.  
            "Just three?" I remember saying, then I easily took them out. Of course I was covered in grit thanks to the sand men, so when I came back to the girl she whacked me with the flat of her Ring Pommel Saber.  
            "Aaaaaah! Keep away!! Keep away!!!"  
            "Stop it!" I yelled, avoiding the awkward slashes she was making. Finally she stopped attacking me, and blushed in embarrassment when she realized I was a human.  
            "I'm sorry. I- I kinda lost my head back there."  
            "Well, it's alright, at least you didn't shriek like the time in Culverts."  
            "Yeah, I… hey… how did you know about that?" she gasped, her gray eyes kinda bugging out. I started to laugh, I couldn't help it! If you just saw how funny she looked with her mouth open and her eyes almost popping out of her head, you'd laugh too. She didn't think it was so funny though, she actually managed to snatch my Sakkat off my head.  
            When she saw my red hair she recognized me. I'm still not sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing because she suddenly lunged at me! I thought she was gonna beat me up, instead she sorta got me into this chokehold that she tries to pass off as a hug. What did she call them…? Oh yeah, a "huggle." She might have been a mantis in a former life, the way her arms could crush your neck like that…  
            Well because of that huggle, she saw the emblem on my collar, and then came these doe eyes. She looked up at me and sorta begged me to vouch for her, how was I supposed to say no to that? Addy can be very persuasive if she wanted to be. And being the softhearted person I am, I couldn't help but give in. I recommended her to Tommas, who actually knew Addy in the first place!  
            Turns out she was on her way to meet Tommas in Morroc and got lost. Addy and I, we both had no sense of direction, it's something we're both proud of. I remember how we'd wander the forests of Payon for hours, only to find we had just gone in a circle. Addy would suddenly shriek loud enough for me to know where she was and I'd find poison spores were chasing her.  
            Yeah… those were the days. And then Warse showed up and I hardly saw Addy again.   
            She rarely visited us, and when she did the priest was always with her. This may be an overused phrase, but Warse was like her second shadow. I didn't mind personally, but it made all things guild related difficult to talk about when he was around.   
            The guild was full and we weren't about to kick someone out just to accommodate Warse. I didn't really trust him all that much, and I'm a pretty trusting guy. I think it was how Warse would suddenly just _be_ there, that made him seem a bit… well… suspicious. Not that I disliked the guy, I don't know him enough to. Addy sure seemed happy when he was around though, so I guess that was more important.  
  
  
            "Hey all! Cid's back in the house!!" came a loud, gruff yell from the entrance. All the guildsmen, including The Scribe turned to the direction of the voice. Standing at the doorway, waving a wrapped weapon above his head was another knight.  
            'What is it with Sakkats?' Darin wondered, eyeing the approaching green haired man.  
            "Hey Cid, what's that you got there?" Tommas asked.  
            "Gentlemen," he began, followed quickly by a cough from Lucita, "and _Lady_, you are looking at the lucky bastard who just managed to get a Wind Bastard Sword! Forged by Kikka to boot!" Cid grinned proudly.  
            "No way!!! Kikka's _always_ sold out! How did you get to be so lucky!?!?" Kharnoz gasped, remembering his own thwarted attempt at buying the one of the female blacksmith's coveted weaponry.  
            "Hey, the gods make sure to take care of their own kind. And I _am_ the Thunder God!" Cid winked, then noticed Darin with his parsley colored eyes. He unwrapped the Bastard Sword in the blink of an eye and had pointed it dangerously at The Scribe. Before Cid could demand an answer, Darin beat him to it.  
            "I'm Darin, and I'm a Scribe. I'm currently on a journey to make a compilation of stories, would you care to be part of it?" he squeaked.  
            Cid drew his weapon back and rested it onto his shoulders.  
            "Nah, I don't have anything to say. Unless you'd like me to tell you how I got this beauty?" the boyish grin appeared.  
            "Well… if it's not too much to ask, could you tell me about a former guildmate of yours?" Darin hoped. "Particularly one named Addy?"  
            "Eh? Why me? Go and ask that Warse guy she's always with."  
            "Don't you have anything to share about her? I mean, your other friends were kind enough to provide me with some anecdotes."  
            The Scribe handed the rolls of parchment to the knight, and waited. A frown crossed Cid's face as he skimmed through the collected tales.  
            "Are you serious? None of these show the Addy I know!"  
            "Is that so…? If that's the case…" Darin nodded sagely, motioning the knight to an empty chair. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"  
            Cid reluctantly sat down, waited until The Scribe had gotten his materials before he began to speak.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karash, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
            Daren coughed, signaling everything was ready and all Cid had to do was begin talking. The green haired knight frowned, tapping his chin in deep thought. After a long pause, he began,  
            "Okay, Addy…"  
  
  
**TG Cid  
**  
            Okay, Addy… Addy… Addy… well, everyone tells me that the way she acted could be divided into two timelines: Before Warse and After Warse. But since you asked _me_, I really couldn't tell the difference. Addy was just… Addy.  
            And by that, it means she's always talking. Addy loves to talk, and I do mean _love_. She can go on and on and on and _on_! Gods, sometimes I'm just about ready to strangle her just to get some peace and quiet!   
            I'm not the type who likes silence, but Addy's chatter was just too… what's that word… redundant! It's like she thinks she can't exhaust her subject even though it already was exhausted! More than exhausted… heck beyond exhausted. Well that's just me; everyone else seems to find it amusing. Why, I'll never understand.  
            There was this one time Addy dragged me along one of her travels. No way in hell was I about to suffer her noise alone! So I managed to get Arwyn and Futari to come along. Unfortunately Futari, being Futari, had gotten lost so Arwyn went to look for him. Meaning I got stuck with Addy.  
            Arwyn had suggested we stay put so it would be easier for her to find us and it would prevent Addy from getting lost as well. So what were we supposed to do in the meantime? Addy decided we should have a meaningful conversation… which became a meaningful monologue. _Addy's_ meaningful monologue. I thought I was going to lose my mind at that point.  
            Maybe I would have, if she had kept at it. I wanted to thank my lucky stars when I heard a squeaking noise, meaning poison spores were nearby. More than one actually as five of those walking mushrooms came out and mobbed us. I had to take out four of them, while Addy barely managed to kill the fifth.  
            By the time she finally managed to kill it, I was pretty hurt. It wouldn't have been so bad if she had just given me some red potions. But of course she had to feel all guilty and try to help me out. How? By talking!!!  
            "It helps distract you from the pain." She explained to me. Yes, it diverted my attention from my wounds, only because of the headache that came as a result. As if that wasn't enough, she just had to come up with that god-awful nickname.  
            "You're The Thunder God, so that's TG for short. Teeg! I think I'll call you that! Teeg!! Teeg!! Teeg!!" she giggled like this deranged idiot that escaped an asylum.  
            Her chatter wasn't the only thing that was irritating. Have you ever heard a shriek from Addy? Let me put it this way, get five mukas together in one room and have them all cry at the same time. Multiply the sound you hear five more times and that's Addy's shriek.  
            I probably sound so mean at this point, but that's just how things were between me and Addy. We hardly knew anything about each other, even though we were guildmates. Probably the only thing I can say I know about her is that she's a scaredy cat. She does have a habit of shrieking at minor things, but that's not what I meant.   
            It's like this one time, Addy had been traveling with me, Ollie, and Lucita. We were all supposed to check out the pyramids, just see if there was anything worthwhile. Of course we stopped over in Morroc and as usual Addy got lost. Rather she got separated from us, I don't know how she managed to exactly, she just did.  
            When we realized she was missing (which was when we noticed things became so quiet), we went to look for her. We found her in one of the alleys, her eyes were puffy, her face was pale and she was clearly frightened.   
            At first we thought something horrible had happened to her, hell even _I_ was worried. Then she blurted out how scared she was because she thought we had abandoned her. Like we would really do something like that. Although it was tempting when she began to ramble.  
            When that Warse showed up, I didn't get to see Addy much. Not that I'm complaining, I was relieved I saw less of her. Hell, it's no secret that I tolerate her at best, even she knows it. And yet, for some unexplainable reason, she never once stopped trying to hug me.   
            As for Warse, well… let's just say I preferred Addy over him. Although I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He must have been either mentally insane or a glutton for punishment to stay with Addy. All I can say is: better him than me.  
  
  
            "Is that how you view Miss Addy? How very unfortunate, from the stories she has told me, she thinks very highly of you." Darin observed.  
            "Huh? She must loonier than I thought she was." Cid laughed.  
            A warp portal suddenly opened and out came a very harassed priest. His white hair was in complete disarray and his chocolate colored eyes were seemingly glazed with fatigue.  
            "Hacky, what happened?" Lucita gasped, quickly catching the priest before he fell to the floor.  
            "Give him some air." Tommas ordered, fanning Hacky with the holy man's own biretta.   
            "Hacky… Hacky… is this man Father Haecceitas?" Darin asked.  
            "Whoa, I didn't know Hacky was famous." Futari blinked.  
            "Oh, that, Miss Addy mentioned him a few times. He's 'The most adorable, lovable, darling priest to ever grace Rune Midgard with his uber cute self.' At least, according to Miss Addy." he chuckled. "In fact, he's the only priest that she mentions, other than Warse."  
            "Did she mention that Hacky here's 'The Traumatized?'" Cid motioned.  
            "No, she didn't, would you be kind enough to elaborate on that Mr. Cid?"  
            "I think it would be best to have Hacky tell the story." The knight replied. "When he's feeling better that is."  
            "I can wait." The Scribe nodded, adjusting his parchments and inkwells.  
            "He's coming to." Lucita announced, helping the dazed priest onto a chair.  
            "Hacky, how many fingers am I holding up?" Tommas asked, raising his pinky.  
            "Oh Tommas, I'm fine. And I can perfectly see you're holding up one finger. Give me a second to heal myself." A bright green glow surrounded the priest and whatever wounds he had received instantly healed.  
            "What happened to you Hacky?" Ollie queried as he cleaned his monocle.  
            "Was exploring the caves in Payon with Moneo and Regame. Munaks started mobbing us, and the next thing we knew Bonguns joined in the fray. We each warped away I just don't know where Reg and Moneo warped to."  
            "Father Haecceitas, would it be alright if I asked you for a story?" Darin spoke up.  
            "I beg your pardon? Who are you?"  
            "Oh, forgive me father, I'm Darin Carsen, a traveling scribe. If it will be alright with you, could you tell me a tale about Miss Addy?"  
            "Um… what about Addy?" Haecceitas asked.  
            "Relax, she's not here Hacky. Just talk about your traumatic moments with her." Cid snickered.  
            "Isn't that putting things a bit too harshly, Cid?" the priest frowned.  
            "Hey, I call it like I see it." the knight snorted.  
            "Well, if Mister Cid is being too harsh, would you like to give your tale?"   
            The white haired man gave a small smile in consent.  
            "Outside of the guild…"  
  
  
**Haecceitas  
**  
            Outside of the guild, I'm known as "Deep at Heart," in Schattenjägers I'm "The Traumatized." Not that I'm literally traumatized, it's a silly inside joke we made ever since Addy became a member of our guild. I'm pretty confident that in the stories other people would have about Addy, there is a mention of her insatiable urge to 'huggle.'  
            I'm correct, aren't I?  
            Well, in Schattenjägers, Addy likes to huggle one particular person more than the rest. And that unlucky person happens to be me. Coming from a rather conservative family, where physical interaction between members is limited to the respectful kissing, I was certainly not used to having someone hug me. Much less all the time. I never could get used to her hugs, no matter how many times she would latch her arms around me.  
            I unconsciously cringe whenever I hear Addy's voice, thus my guildmates began calling me "The Traumatized." I'm sure Addy meant well with the affections she was showing me, but it did feel awkward, not to mention appear very, very wrong. I _am_ a man of the cloth, so people expect me to have a higher level of morality.  
            Addy didn't seem to care though. I'm not saying what other people thought didn't bother her. It's just that, as long as she was hugging me, she acted as if nothing else mattered. But the moment she lets go, and someone comments about it, she becomes so flustered and embarrassed. And when she gets embarrassed she starts talking, I think it's because she believes it diverts the attention from her hugs to her words.  
            She's really very self-conscious, come to think about it. Could hardly manage to go any place alone, although she keeps attributing this to her 'being so weak.' She always felt that people would have problems because of her weakness, and Cid had a habit of rubbing it in her face.  While Addy usually feigns indignation in response to Cid's comments, she sometimes did get genuinely hurt.   
            It's a very disturbing experience to see Addy feeling sad. She wouldn't smile, wouldn't eat, wouldn't talk, wouldn't even hug me! I don't know how she fared before she joined the guild, but she would just sit in a corner and stare at nothing. If we asked her to join us on something, even if it was just to look for a new headquarter (our original base used to be one of Zjic's spare houses), she always declined. Yet seeing her angry was a different matter.   
            I remember this one time Cid had just remarked how 'pathetic' Addy's fighting skills were (that man can be so mean). Because of this, she became determined to kill a savage. I was willing to heal her if she needed help, but she refused.  
            "I want to be able to tell Teeg I had managed to slay a savage all on my own. Maybe then he'll give me some respect."  
            So I accompanied her to the fields where the savages grazed. [Cid: Actually she begged him to go with her. Lucita: Cid, shut up and let Hacky tell the story!] *ahem* Once we arrived, she attacked the first savage she spotted. Just when it seemed she was nearing victory, a blue haired hunter arrived and Double Straffed the pig.  
            The energy pierced straight into the savage's heart, killing it instantly. Normally, Addy wouldn't be bothered that someone else made the killing blow, but this time it was different. She had downed red potion after red potion just to be able to hold her ground against the savage, and I think Cid's remark finally got to her.  
            "What was _that_ for Irlan?!?!" Addy demanded hotly.  
            "You were taking too long." He shrugged. "I thought I'd do you and the savage a favor by finishing things quickly."  
            Now, it's obvious that Addy's a very happy person, always smiling and teasing people with her silly nicknames. Her energy appeared inexhaustible, so it was only natural that her anger would be just as potent. Actually, Lucita had described Addy's pit of anger as a "bottled Lord of Vermillion."  
            True enough, her anger was something to be reckoned with, as she began to verbally assault the hunter.  
            "How inconsiderate of you!! There are dozens of savages available for you to kill, why couldn't you have just left this one to me?!? It's not as if I was blocking your way. Are you so weak that if you attacked a savage all by yourself, you'd need a priest to resurrect your sorry posterior?!?"  
            These aren't what she said exactly, I'm just paraphrasing because she had used… cruder words that I may not repeat. As it turns out, Addy had encountered Irlan (the hunter) before. They weren't what you could call 'childhood friends,' nor were they 'friendly rivals.' I'm not sure what the relationship between them was.  
            The two started bickering, with Irlan using even fouler words and curses. Addy, in her rage, would not back down and touched on a very sensitive subject that left the hunter speechless.  
            "I think the reason why no woman would even consider liking you other than the fact you're a self-centered son of a matyr, is because your _arrows_ probably have more _virility_ than you do!"  
            I didn't want to see how that would end, so I decided to warp both myself and the still enraged Addy back to Zjic's house.  
  
  
            The members of Schattenjägers were howling in laughter as the white haired priest finished his tale.  
            "I remember when Addy told me about that. I wished I could have been there to watch!" Futari hooted.  
            "She does know how to hit below the belt, at least verbally." Lucita giggled.  
            "That Irlan deserved it." Kharnoz nodded with a grin. "I mean, whenever we encounter him, he's always picking a fight with us."  
            "Well he's an idiot, the fact he joined Jaded Crimson proves it!" Ollie scoffed condescendingly.  
            "Could you explain that further Mister Ollie?" Daren requested, the mention of the Jaded Crimson guild caught The Scribe's interest.  
            The monocle-wearing hunter scratched his head. "I'll think about it…"


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karash, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
            "Come on Ollie, you of all people should know how Irlan is ruining the reputations of hunters everywhere." Lucita nudged.  
            "Shouldn't Tommas talk about it? He _is_ the guildmaster, after all." Ollie suggested.  
            "Now the difference between the two of us, Ollie, is that I don't really care about Irlan or what the Jaded Crimson do. And I'm lucky enough to have very few encounters with them, not counting my experiences with their guildmaster that is."  
            "Oh fine, fine, I suppose I could pluck a few random anecdotes from memory." The hunter shrugged.  
            "Wonderful!" Darin smiled, quickly taking out a fresh roll of parchment. The Scribe dipped his quill into the ink and readied himself to write.  
            The hunter continued to clean his monocle when he began,  
            "Before I get ahead of myself…"  
  
**Ollie  
**  
            Before I get ahead of myself I suppose I should begin with the Schattenjägers' reputation. We're not really a famous guild, there are more well-known guilds out there, such as Spectral Templars, or Blacksmiths' Point, or even The Council of Irish. I believe the only reason why some people know of us is because of the Jaded Crimson. Whether that is a positive thing is still under debate.  
            Now the Jaded Crimson guild isn't famous, it's _infamous_. Mainly thanks to two people, one of whom is Irlan Hue. Irlan Hue is a jerk. Actually, to call him a jerk would be too nice, he is more than a jerk, he is even beyond being a mega-jerk. I'd tell you what I really think of him if Hacky wasn't here. Any case, that man gives hunters every where a bad name. He's rude and obnoxious, and won't think twice about scamming you of your hard earned zenny.  
            He picks fights with novices, female novices to boot, and even hapless townsmen who only wish to live a peaceful life aren't spared from his verbal tyrade! He goes around insulting swordsmen, taunting thieves, harrassing merchants and pestering acolytes for free warps. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to buy blue gems, what with all the rare items he manages to 'pick up.'   
            You'd think he'd be more considerate with his fellow hunters. But of course, I gave him too much credit because he'd sooner ruin a perfectly set ankle snare or blast trap than let someone else have the kill.  
            Having the displeasure of knowing Irlan, I was stumped to find that he was in a guild and that someone invited him in the first place. I remember thinking "Was the guildmaster _that_ desperate to have a full guild?" It was only when I crossed paths with the Jaded Crimson guild that I realized Irlan was with his own kind.  
            This happened while I was at the 'mids with Hacky, Ujimitsu and Leto. Rumor had spread about a creature named Osiris, claiming it was a demi-god that haunted the place. The boys and I wanted to see just how much of a 'god' this Osiris was.  
            Of course, with rumors, you can be sure everyone has heard of it. And naturally, we weren't the only guilds interested in this character. And out of all the guilds we had to run into, it had to be the Jaded Crimson. I was taken by surprise by one of their priestesses when she suddenly warped me to Alberta.  
            It could have been an honest mistake. Hacky or Celesz (our priestess) had miswarped Futari in the past, so I let it go. Actually I was _about_ to let it go, when Uji suddenly popped out of another warp portal and fell right on top of me. As if a swordie wasn't enough, Leto arrived a little while later and added his weight to the pile. I'm a hunter, I avoid attacks rather than meet them head on. Having a swordie and a knight crushing me was not good for my health.  
            When they finally got off me, I asked them what had happened. Uji told me how the priestess, after having warped me, started to laugh and give her guildmates the thumbs up sign. Naturally he went over to her and demanded to know my whereabouts. To which the priestess nastily replied:   
            "Why not go see for yourself?" before she warped him away.  
            Leto was not about to back down, the moment the priestess tried to open a warp portal beneath him he quickly moved away. While he's a gentleman, we all are (well maybe with Cid as an exception) a foe is still a foe, regardless of gender. He lunged for the priestess, only to smack right into an ice wall, he was warped shortly after. As for Hacky, he was able to get himself out of the 'mids before the other Jaded Crimsons could try anything.   
            Outraged at this sort of behavior, I informed the Jaded Crimson's guildmaster, hoping he could repremand those thugs. Unfortunately this proved pointless, because there was an even bigger fungus running around, trying to pass itself off as human.   
            I am referring to the second person who further boosted awareness of Jaded Crimson. It's the assassin Diuce, guildmaster and all-around menace to Rune Midgard. Yes, it sounds fantastic that there is someone who is even more vile and more aggravating than Irlan, but it's true.   
            Diuce actually encourages his guildmates to act nothing short of uncivilized. And with a large percentage of our population being just as disgusting, it's no wonder a slot in their guild is so sought after. After all, who wouldn't want to be in a guild where you can be as nasty and as barbaric as you please?  
            While we avoid Jaded Crimson as much as possible, we're constantly on the receiving end of their inconsideration and offenses. Mainly because Diuce considers Tommas as a rival, I don't know the details and I don't suggest you ask. It will only serve to complicate matters. In any case, we don't stoop to their level. As long as we aren't physically assaulted, we merely ignore them.  
            Addy was exceptionally good at this, even with Irlan constantly targeting her with verbal abuse. There were moments when she answered back, and she knew how to hit below the proverbial belt. But in the end, Addy suffered more because she always felt horrible for snapping at someone (even if that person deserved every single insult). Whenever she had engaged in a word-war, she would mope and stew in guilt for days.  
            I may not be an expert in matters of the mind, but placing that much guilt on oneself isn't very healthy. Especially when you're as unstable as Addy.  
  
  
            It was here that the hunter ended his tale. An awkward silence fell upon the room, as the member of Schattenjägers looked at each other uneasily.  
            "Look at that, it's already dusk." Tommas observed.  
            "Who's supposed to be bringing dinner?" Cid asked.  
            "I think it's Seamus and Celesz's turn." Said Futari.  
            "Would you like to join us for dinner, Darin?" Lucita offered.  
            The Scribe's stomach grumbled in affirmation, "If it's not too much trouble." He chuckled sheepishly.  
            "Oh it's no trouble. No trouble at all." Hacky smiled, "You could even spend the night if you like."  
            "No, I don't want to impose." Darin politely answered.  
            "Don't fret, my brother just left on an expedition to Comodo with Leto, False God and Paopu. They won't be back for days." Ollie explained.  
            "If you insist…"  
            "Well that's settled!" Kharnoz grinned.  
            "Um, if this isn't too much to ask, would any of you know how Miss Addy ended up in the asylum?" Darin asked.  
            Again silence descended. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Cid decided to answer.  
            "We don't have a clue. If you ask me, I ain't all that surprised when I heard the news. Addy was always so– ow!!" he yelped as Lucita struck his head with her Bone Wand.  
            "We were hoping _you_ knew." Tommas quietly stated.  
            "It's a little embarassing but we only found out about Addy through her cousin Dianne." Ollie added.  
            Sensing he had made a grave error, Darin dropped the subject. Just in time for Seamus and Celesz to arrive with the food. Thankfully, no one's appetite was spoiled and the rest of the evening was uneventful.


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
            Dawn soon bathed the Sograt desert with its light, and The Scribe stirred from sleep. With a wide yawn, Darin rose to continue sorting the tales by author. He had meant to finish this task last night, but he was exhausted from the previous day's events. Writing for several hours will tax just about anyone. And the five glasses of rum might have also encouraged an early trip to dreamland.  
            A knock interrupted him, and Lucita's voice could be heard calling him to breakfast. Darin scrambled to pull his travel clothes on. It wouldn't be polite to arrive at the table dressed in one's night garments.   
            "I'll be there in a minute Miss Lucita." He called out.  
            "Okay." The wizard responded, and her footsteps gradually faded away.  
            "Alright then, Darin, let's complete this so we can continue with work." He nodded to himself, finally managing to organize the scrolls of parchment.  
            Upon arriving at the dining hall with his packed bag, Darin saw that only Haecceitas remained.  
            "Good morning, Darin." Hacky greeted politely.  
            "Where is everyone, Father?"  
            "Oh, they're all off to meet up with our allies, the Spectral Knights." The priest explained. "And I'll be joining them shortly, after breakfast."  
            "Er… What about…"  
            "Fear not, I'll be warping you to Morroc before I leave." Hacky smiled amiably.  
            The Scribe sighed in relief, "For a minute there, I thought I'd have to face those Sand Men all by myself."  
            "Who do you take us for? The Jaded Crimson?"  
            Both men laughed.  
            "Although I do hope you don't mind me saying this, I'd also like to take down the perspective of The Jaded Crimson. After all, there's two sides to a coin, right?"  
            "True, true, just to warn you, The Jaded Crimson don't take kindly to anyone. Not even to their own guildmates."  
            "Would you care to elaborate?" Darin grinned, taking out a fresh sheet of parchment and his quill. The priest shook his head, and no amount of persuasion could make him talk. Good naturedly, Darin returned his things back into the bag.  
            "It's been interesting talking to you." Hacky smiled, "But it seems I have to go. May the gods watch over you."  
            "Thank you, Father Haecceitas."  
            "Please, call me Hacky." The priest laughed. "So, what will your destination be?"  
            "Prontera. Be seeing you, Father Hacky."  
            The white haired priest sweatdropped as he warped Darin to the capital of Rune-Midgard.  
  
            At Prontera, Darin made a quick stop at the library. He had to purchase more parchment and quills, especially with the itinerary he had for the day. If he played his cards right, he would be able to find more stories.  
            "Ah, Darin. Back for more materials I see." The librarian greeted in a whisper.  
            "Yes, I'd like to buy two inkwells, three quills and maybe twenty five rolls of parchment." The Scribe ordered while handing the equivalent zeny.  
            "So tell me, is your collection shaping up the way you intended it?" the librarian asked, ducking below the desk to gather the order.  
            "Actually no…"  
            "I'm sorry to hear that." The librarian apologized as Darin took the supplies.  
            "Don't be," he grinned, "it's going better than I expected." The Scribe began to head out of the library, when the librarian called out  
            "Off to gather more tales of heroes, gallantry and magic?"  
            "No," Darin answered back, "I'm going to look for tales of pain, betrayal and love."  
            Hisses came from the library as the readers glared at the two noise makers. Bowing in apology, Darin hastily left and went to the Kafra.  
            "Welcome to the Kafra Corporation, we will go wherever you will go." The Kafra greeted imperiously through her spectacles. "What can I do for you?"  
            "I'd like to store some of these parchments." Darin answered, handing an armful of the written works.  
            "Very good, anything else?"  
            "A warp to the Mjolnir Insane Asylum."  
            The Kafra raised a curious brow, but said nothing other than "That will be three thousand zeny please." Darin paid the amount without hesitation, his 'employer' included warping expenses in the per diem.  
            "Good morning sir. You are here to see Miss Evional, correct?" a priestess smiled at Darin's arrival.  
            "You got it." The Scribe laughed.  
            "It's wonderful that you've been visiting Miss Evional, Bernice tells me she's been improving. Who knows, she might even make a full recovery. Your visits are highly appreciated." She exclaimed, handing Darin a logbook.  
            "Oh it's nothing." He replied, signing his name under the visitor's title and Addy's name under the patient's. He noticed another person who had Addy as the patient  
            'Dianne.' Darin blinked, mentally taking note to ask Addy about her.  
            Darin climbed up the stairwell, heading for the merchant's room. On his first day at the asylum, the maniacal laughter and horrified shrieks had unnerved him. Even if this was to be his seventh visit, he still couldn't help but shudder.  
            Angry shouts echoed all around him, but a distinct voice caught his attention.  
  
            "Shut up!! Shut up!!"  
  
            Darin blinked, recognizing the voice as Addy's. Hurriedly, he ran down the hallway and skidded to a halt, just as the door to her room swung open.  
            "Shut up!!! I don't ever want to hear you say that again!!" Addy yelled as she roughly shoved a gray haired huntress out of the room.  
            "Addy, it's for your own good."  
            "Shut up!! I don't want to listen to you!! Stop saying those things!!! They're not true!! They're not, they're not, they're not, they're NOT!!" the merchant shrieked, covering her ears in the process.  
            "Will you get a hold of yourself!!? Stop living in your own world! Addy, you _don't_ belong here!! You shouldn't be waiting for a man who will never come back." The huntress yelled back, grabbing the merchant's hand. "Listen to me, please. It's been two years and you haven't heard a single word from him. How can you believe Warse is going to return?"  
            "What do you care??! It can't be because you're jealous. You already have someone whose coming home to you!! You already have someone to wait for!! Why won't you let _me_!? Why? Why!? Why?!?" the gray eyed girl demanded, collapsing in a fit of sobs.  
            The huntress, rather than further berating the merchant, bent down to pat her.   
            "Why?" Addy rasped, "Why won't you believe me when I say Warse is coming back? Why won't you believe in Warse? I love him… and he loves me…"  
            "How many times have _you_ told him you love him?"  
            "More times than I can count…"  
            "And how many times did _he_ tell you he loves you?"  
            "As many times as I have." Addy answered mechanically. The Scribe would have believed her, had he not seen the turmoil in the merchant's eyes.  
            "You're certain?" the huntress pressed.  
            Addy tried to defend herself, yet only succeeded in mouthing her response. It seemed the merchant could say nothing, as two forces were warring within her. In a final attempt to silence her doubts, Addy ran to her room and locked herself in.  
            The huntress stood outside the door, her gloved hands clenched into tight fists. Not even with the maddened screams and delirious laughter could muffle Addy's sobs.  
            "Why do you never answer that question?" the huntress whispered.  
            Darin watched silently and allowed the huntress a momentary respite before approaching her. He knew he had to handle this carefully, otherwise he wouldn't be able to get what he wanted. Before he took even the smallest step, the huntress asked:  
            "You're Darin, aren't you?"  
            The Scribe blinked in surprise, "Er, yes, I am… how do you know that?"  
            "Addy told me you've been writing down her stories. Let me just tell you that not everything she says is true. Addy's in this asylum for a reason." She turned to Darin.  
            "I'm quite aware she's in an asylum, Miss Dianne." He began carefully, "And I only write down her tales, I do not make any assumptions of their validity."  
            "Good, now if you'll excuse me, I must go."  
            "Wait!"  
            "What?"  
            "About Miss Addy's stories being untrue, could you give me an example?"  
            The huntress' expression turned grim, "All those stories about Warse being a kind, loving and wonderful priest are pure drivel! Sheer drivel, utter and complete nonsense! He's the reason why my cousin is here in the first place."  
            "Why do you say that?" The Scribe asked, already bringing out his materials.  
            "I know what you want, another story for your book. And I'll give it to you only because I want to clear things up. I doubt Addy or any of her guildmates have told you about her childhood…"  
            "Well Miss Addy has stayed on the subject of her relationship with Warse…"  
            "Don't interrupt me," Dianne snapped. "I don't like being interrupted."  
            "I beg your pardon. Please, do go on."  
            The huntress leaned back against the wall and made herself comfortable.


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
            Darin settled himself on the floor, and dipped his quill into the ink. He looked up to the huntress and waited. Concentrating on her memories, Dianne managed to ignore the noise surrounding them.  
            "I've known Addy since…"  
  
**Dianne   
**  
            I've known Addy since forever, other than the fact we're cousins, we were both born and raised in Alberta. It was odd, I'm younger than Addy and yet I act like I was the older one. I was always looking out for her, ever since we were children.   
            And even back then, Addy wanted nothing more than to be a blacksmith. I on the other hand couldn't see myself coping with the stress of being a blacksmith. The endless amounts of orders, the politics involved, the stuffy atmosphere of the smithy, it was enough to make my head spin.   
            But the life of a hunter… well, the freedom and solitude, communing with nature and the animals, it was just wonderful. Good thing Payon was only a few day's travel away.   
            The day before I set off for the Archer Village, Addy and I went out for a hike in the forest. We came up to the cliff overlooking Alberta and sat there. We spent hours just talking, about all sorts of things.   
            "The title of hottest blacksmith is a tie between three people." Addy giggled.  
            "Oh? And who would they be?" I nudged.  
            "Astaroth, Torikame or the one they call Shopyman."  
            "I don't go for blacksmiths." I snorted, "Assassins, however, are the definition of hot!"  
            "Don't forget priests!!" my cousin declared. "I mean, acolytes are cuddly and all, but priests are just… just… too attractive for words!"  
            "Why you find priests attractive, I'll never know."  
            We grew silent at that point, I hadn't exactly told Addy that I was leaving the next day. I was planning to tell her when she suddenly asked me:  
            "When do you think I'll be a blacksmith?"  
            "Addy, concentrate on passing the merchant's test first okay? You can worry about being a blacksmith later."  
            "I know, but I just can't help it. I want to be a blacksmith so badly…"  
            "Why? I mean, it's not like we have a shortage of weapons or anything."  
            "That's not the point… as a blacksmith, I can help people defend themselves without having to _be_ there! I mean, sure I can be a priestess and save people's souls from eternal damnation, but that requires my presence. My _constant_ presence. And as much as I'd love to be around people, I don't think people would want to be around me."  
            "What makes you say that?"  
            "Isn't that why you're leaving for Payon without telling me?" she demanded, locking her gray eyes with my green ones.  
            "That's not it! I just wasn't able to find the right time…"  
            "Or maybe you just didn't want me to know because I might follow you. That's the last thing you want, right? Having me embarass you because I'm so weak and stupid."  
            "No, that's not how it is!"  
            "What then? Why didn't you tell me you were going to leave on the day I'm taking the merchant's test? I can't do that alone, I need you to be there for me."  
            "And I will be! I just need to be there for _me_ first. Heck, you're older than I am! You should be taking care of me." I laughed, it was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.  
            I was surprised that Addy started to laugh as well.   
            "You're right, I am supposed to be taking care of you. Gah, I can't believe I'm being so selfish! Go to Payon and become a hunter. You don't have to wait for me to pass the test. Just promise me one thing."  
            "What?"  
            "If you ever meet a cute guy and find you like him, you'll come to me for approval alright?"  
            "How could you be thinking of something like that?!?" I gasped, reddening.  
            "Because from what I hear, the hottest guys train at Payon. You will definitely meet someone there. And if you find a spare one, be sure to set me up with him okay?" she winked.  
            Addy always managed to bounce back, no matter how low she felt. Even if that creep Irlan was picking on her, she managed to grin and bear it. Even if she had to take the merchant's test twice, she managed to crack a joke about it. Even if I stopped visiting her after I became a hunter, she managed to shrug it off and smile.  
            She always managed to bounce back…  
            Until Warse came along and ruined her life.  
            Addy's not the healthiest of people, emotionally that is. And at first, this Warse guy sounded like he was doing her a world of good. She became more confident, more independent, more stable. I thought she just started believing in herself. It never occurred to me that she came to rely on Warse more than anything in the world.  
            I think it was fate that my friends told me about an obscure store in Prontera that sold Oridecons and Eluniums as if they were Iron Ores. I went to Prontera and sought out those cheap ores when I saw Addy wandering about in a daze.  
            She was covered head to toe in blood, the hem of her sleeves and skirt were torn and she had the scariest grin on her face. I called out her name, several times before she looked at me.  
            "Oh, hello Di." She ambled towards me. "How long have you been a huntress? Last time I saw you, we were still novices."  
            "What are you talking about? You were there when I became a huntress."  
            Addy frowned, "No I wasn't…" she started to walk away, seemingly unaware of her appearance. I ran after her and grabbed her arm.   
            "Where are you going? You're hurt!"  
            "Oh Warse will heal me, as soon as he finds me."  
            "Who did this to you?"  
            "… I did." She laughed, "Silly, stupid me got herself hurt. And now she has to wait, or the mean hunter will have won and the sad priest will become sadder."  
            "That's it, you're coming with me right now."  
            "No! I have to wait for him! I promised I'll wait for him, he said he wouldn't be long. The sad priest said something about a cleansing… so I guess he's off to cleanse himself or Rune-Midgard I forget." My cousin tried to free herself from my grip, but I held on. "Will you just let go? I have to wait for him."  
            This was getting me no where, "Fine, where are you supposed to wait for him?"  
            "I don't know…" she murmured quietly.   
            And then she looked at me with eyes that was the Addy I knew. She held me close and whispered   
            "I can't take much more of this. I can't stand it…"  
            "Stand what? What happened?"  
            My cousin said nothing, she just smiled. Unmindful of the blood, I embraced her tightly. She hugged back, then kissed me on the cheeks.  
            And then I lost her.  
            She began to ramble about the mean hunter, the sad priest and a pretty girl covered in sparkly wine. I half-dragged, half-ran with Addy to the church. I didn't care if there was a mass at that time, I demanded that a priest heal my cousin. A female acolyte was sent to tend her wounds and the mass went on as if nothing happened.   
            The acolyte told me the gashes on Addy's knuckles and knees had been healed.  
            "Oh thank Odin…" I breathed in relief.  
            "However, Miss Evional has to be brought to the Mjolnir Insane Asylum."  
            I stared in shock as the acolyte explained that my cousin requested it. She said Addy had promised to wait for "him" there.  
            "Alright… thank you." I nodded, "Oh and could you tell Warse about this?"  
            The acolyte paled, "Please do not speak his name in front of me." She looked to the sides and whispered, "Not many people know he isn't exactly the holiest of priests. And if he finds out I've told you this… he'll… he'll…" her breath caught in her chest and began to sob uncontrollably. She managed to regain her composure quickly enough. She wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve and gave me a radiant smile.  
            "We'll transport Miss Evional to the asylum soon. You can visit her any day of the week from eight in the morning to seven in the evening. Oh and before I forget, only Kafra Corporation has a warp to the asylum. And you'll also have to log in your every visit. Don't worry, Miss Evional will be fine."  
            Somehow, her words didn't quite convince me._  
_  
  
            Darin finished adding the period to the sentence before looking back up at the huntress. He was surprised to find her glaring, at him? No… not _at_ him, behind him. The Scribe rose and saw a hunter with cerulean hair and saffron eyes.  
            "Shouldn't you be out harassing novices?" Dianne growled.  
            "Oh I'm sorry, did I forget to harrass you?" he sneered.  
            "What are you doing here Irlan?" the huntress demanded.  
            "Can't I pay a friend a visit?"  
            "You're not Addy's friend, you're not anyone's friend! Get out!"  
            "I don't take orders from you."  
            "And I'm… I'm…"  
            "Don't even bother, only your cousin could out talk me." Irlan snorted, "Actually, she can out talk just about anyone."  
            "I don't have to take this from you. I'm leaving." The huntress declared, shoving the cerulean haired man out of the way.  
            "Be sure to take a bath next time, your hair looks a little greasy." Irlan commented nastily.  
            "Oh I'll be taking a bath alright, and it's because I was in the same room as you." Dianne shot back as she descended the stairwell.  
            "I'll… be going now…" Darin stated, packing his things once again.  
            "Hold on." the saffron eyed man ordered, "You must be Darin Carsen. I've heard about you, you're that guy who's going around collecting stories."  
            "I'm not that famous, am I?" he chuckled hesitantly.  
            "You're right, you're not. I just asked the priestess downstairs who you were. She was more than willing to tell me, she says you're a good influence on Addy." The hunter shrugged, walking to Addy's door. He tried turning the knob and found it unresponsive. He rapped on the door and yelled for Addy to open it.  
            When she didn't comply, the hunter started cracking his knuckles. The sadistic grin on Irlan's face made Darin nervous.  
            "W-w-what are you going to do?"  
            "Being second in command of The Jaded Crimson means I'm a very busy man. I took time off today just to see that runt of a merchant, and I'm not about to come back anytime soon. Either you get someone to open that door, or I'm breaking it down."  
            "W-why don't you just leave a message for Miss Addy? I could write it for you and- and- give it to Miss Addy when she's more welcoming?"  
            Irlan eyed him, his brows knitting together in deep thought. His face broke into a wolfish grin, "You know, that's not a bad idea… not bad at all."  
            The Scribe gave a sigh of relief and started to take down Irlan's message. From what Darin could gather, Irlan was trying to give Addy tidings of concern. One composed more of insults than solace. Once finished, the hunter began to leave.  
            While Darin would want nothing more than to get as far away from the hunter as possible, he knew he had work to do. Mustering his courage, The Scribe asked Irlan his side of the story.  
            "Excuse me?"  
            "You heard me, everyone who's given me a story mentions you in a negative light. In fact, the exchange between you and Miss Dianne would serve as first hand proof. But as someone who knows that the truth has two sides, I'd like to hear your voice."  
            "Are you for real?" Irlan smirked, when Darin nodded the hunter looked pensive. "What do you want me to talk about?"  
            "Oh… anything you want. Rune-Midgard, Jaded Crimson, yourself…"  
            "What was the last thing you said?"  
            "Yourself?"  
            "Yeah…" Irlan nodded, "I think I'll talk about myself…"


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
            "Did Addy tell you how she met Warse?" Irlan suddenly asked, staring intently at Darin. The Scribe quickly recalled the tale and narrated it to the hunter.  
            "That's it?"  
            "Yes, that's how Miss Addy told me, I paraphrased some portions of course."  
            "I'm sure… so how do you want me to start?"  
            "However you want to start Mister Irlan." Darin smiled, albeit nervously.  
            "It's weird having someone call me 'Mister.' Can't say I like it…" he shrugged while he ran his fingers through his cerulean hair. "I've never…  
  
**Irlan Hue  
**  
            I've never been the nice guy, never have and never will. You just don't get anything out of being nice. Oh sure some people will remember you, some will even be grateful. But it's not like you get a medal for being a nice guy. For that to happen, you'd have to be a hero. And heroes are a dime a dozen, so what's the big deal?  
            Not only that, as a nice guy you have to deal with having a conscience, being considerate, and trying to make _other _people's lives better. I can never see myself that way. It's much too bothersome, and much too strenuous on the nerves. I probably won't even last a day acting the part of the _nice guy_.   
            A jerk on the other hand has more laughs, more fun, and more items to boot! You don't have to look out for anyone other than yourself. You can get your kicks just about anywhere. It's just so much easier to be the arrogant jerk that people recoil at the sight of. I mean, so what if people don't like me. I don't like people either, because they're just stupid.  
            Take my parents for instance. All their lives they've been kind and giving, holding charity balls and fund raising activites. And what did they get in return? Their very own massacre in their home. Do you think that would that have happened if they _weren't_ nice people?  
            I tried to follow in their footsteps at the orphanage.   
            Yes, I grew up in an orphanage because my relatives refused to take me in, and _they_ were nice people too. I mean, what with sponsoring novices in the Midgard Academy, helping retired knights with their pensions and funding alchemists for their experiments. They probably couldn't spare enough zeny to take care of me.  
            So it was off to the Izlude orphanage for me. And it was there I learned the errors of being a nice person. I suppse I had adjusted well enough, maybe even led a life that could be considered normal.   
            Well, except the part where I kept getting beaten up just for being alive. And the caretaker of the orphanage calling me to his bed every night, because I was such a _nice_ little boy. And never having anything to call my own because everyone takes things from me.  
            If being nice meant having to put up with all that shit, I wanted no part of it. So I decided to be just like everyone else. I decided to become a stupid, inconsiderate, barbaric, arrogant _person_. When I did, my whole life changed for the better.  
            I was the one beating up the newcomers, even cracking a few heads open now and then. I got more stuff without even breaking a sweat to get them. I had more fun, so what if they were at other people's expense? Did anyone think about that when it happened to me? Things just became easier for me when I became this nasty, arrogant human.   
            Yeah I had a nicer time, but I wasn't happy in the orphanage. We were being trained to become knights! Not that there's anything wrong with being the lapdog of the king, mind you. But it was just too constricting, especially with the clothes. Chainmail does not make for a comfortable wear.   
            So I ran away from the orphanage. I saw a warp portal being opened and jumped in, not even worrying that I might end up in Glast Heim. You could call it fate that I arrived in Payon.  
            Freshly inducted into archerhood, I decided to explore the forests of Payon. It was there I met two people who would make me the man I am today. Obviously the first one is my guildmaster Diuce, I met him while he was still a thief.   
            A swordie had just provoked a spore and like lightning, Diuce would take a few quick stabs before hiding. It only served to infuriate the spore rather than actually kill it, so the swordie had a harder time than before. I must admit, Diuce had the most ingenious ways of making life Hel for others.  
            I could tell he was a happy person, he always had a smirk on his face. We got along quite well. I drew beasts with my arrows while he finished them off when they came near. And when we were bored, we'd go around the towns scamming novices. It was sheer fun, the man knows how to live off other people's hard work.  
            I have to say that's a quality I admire in Diuce, he's just brilliant. People say he's scum or that he should be locked away in Lutie prison. Well f*ck them, they just don't understand the genius that is the guildmaster of Jaded Crimson.  
            Diuce was my senior by just one year, but the gap is bigger experience-wise. He knew more people, had more techniques, I almost saw him as my mentor. _Almost_. You see, Diuce had this one flaw that I couldn't stand about him. His rivalry with Tommas.  
            What is it about the runt guildmaster of The Schattenjägers that threatened Diuce? I couldn't understand it, really. It's not like Tommas is the most popular assassin, and it isn't as if he's the most powerful. And I have yet to see The Schattenjägers do anything in retaliation, spineless wimps. Well, I suppose Diuce is entitled to his secrets, and if there's on thing Jaded Crimson has a lot of, it's secrets.  
            After all, what guild _doesn't_ have its fair share of skeletons in their closets? I know some guilds whose women aren't women at all. I know some guilds whose members are relatives of the law, not that the law does anything mind you.   
            Yeah, every guild has something under wraps, just like every guild has its weak link. Which brings me to the second person who made me the man I am today. If you haven't gotten it by now, you must have been dropped on the head one too many times.  
            I'm referring to the merchant in this asylum, Addy.  
            She was still a novice when I first saw her. She was slashing pitifully at a poring, I mean it was a poring for crying out loud. She couldn't even handle that? I suppose the nice guy still lived in some miniscule part of me, because I decided to help her out. One shot from my arrow was all it took to kill the little pink blob. With so much effort on her part to slay the thing, you'd think I warranted a thank you to say the least.   
            She sauntered up to me while smiling oh-so-innocently. She twirled a lock of her orange hair around her finger and bit her lower lip shyly.  
            "Um, excuse me," she began, scuffing her sandals on the grassy floor. "Were you the one who fired that arrow?"  
            I showed her my bow as proof, even told her I could slay the poring with just one swing of my dirk. She looked at me with wide gray eyes and flashed me a sweet smile. There was something about her that made my heart skip a beat and my flesh tingle. Then my skin began to sting, particularly my cheek.  
            Yes, the ungrateful little matyr slapped me.  
            "If that's the case, look for your _own_ poring to kill! I was doing fine until you showed up!" she yelled, then kicked me on the shins. _Hard._  
            I growled and made a lunge for her when she began to wail,  
            "Aaaaiiiii!! Help me!! Sexual harassment!!! This man is trying to rape me!!!" she yelled so loud, a party of knights and blacksmiths arrived.  
            "Leave the lady alone!" one of them ordered.  
            "It's not what you think…" I began, I probably could outrun one of them. But there were three knights and two blacksmiths. It would take only one hammerfall to seal my fate.  
            "He attacked me and tried to force himself on me." She sobbed as real tears flowed down her cheeks.  
            "Didn't your parents ever tell you that's not the way to treat a lady?"  
            "No, please listen to me."  
            "I know I'm just a novice, but does that give him the right to look at me like some piece of meat?" she cried.  
            Well, as much as I would have wanted to defend myself, I knew I was outnumbered and outmatched. So I ran. When I glanced back, I saw Addy grinning at me. If I hadn't ended up getting pummeled, I wanted to get to know her more. But because it took three acolytes and two weeks of bed rest for me to heal, all I wanted was payback.  
            The next time I found her, she was finally a merchant. She recognized me and actually tried to apologize, it was too late for that. So I lured her into a word-war. I won easily, I was used to verbal sparring but it seemed Addy wasn't.   
            Not that she couldn't say anything in return, but she couldn't stand saying 'mean' things. She had so much potential in her, but she was wasting it all by being a nice person. It just didn't make sense.  
            I mean the times I watched her pathetic attempts of slaying lunatics and rockers were so frustrating. She could have just joined in on someone else's kill, it would have been so much easier for her. Why did she have to be such a nice girl?  
            We all know that bad things happen to good people, that's the way the gods get their kicks after all. And there was just something so wretchedly helpless and undeniably tough about Addy… I knew something was going to ruin that part of her.  
            So I decided then and there that I wanted to change her. I was going to change her into someone like Diuce, like my future guildmates.  
            Like me.  
            I tried so hard to change her mind every chance I got. To the point that Diuce got a little suspicious. So it was something of a god-send that Jaded Crimson was formed.   
            "Hey Hue!" Diuce greeted, smacking me hard on the back. No one but Diuce ever called me by my last name, not that I wanted them to.  
            "Yeah?"  
            "I managed to snatch an emperium from Tommas. You know what _that_ means!"  
            "Hmm, let's see, I am capable of processing thought, and I have been given information regarding emperiums. So yes, I believe I _do_ know what that means."  
            "I've already registered the guild. You are going to one of the members of Jaded Crimson!" he declared gleefully.  
            "Green and red? I didn't know we came from Lutie."  
            "Funny guy." Diuce laughed then smacked me on the nape. "Well, just to let you know, I've already invited some people. But only the two of us can approve membership, so if anyone _asks_ to join us you know what to do."  
            I grinned, "Make them regret it."  
            "Oh and before I forget, if you ever encounter anyone from a guild called The Schattenjägers, give them Hell."  
            Well, with Addy being a member of The Schattenjägers, I had the perfect alibi. But no matter how often I picked on her, no matter how much I looted from her, she didn't… she wouldn't see things _my_ way. She was as stubborn as a wild Grand Peco.  
            So I decided to try something else. Direct assaults didn't seem to be working, I thought why not try other methods? And I did find a way to change her mind. I think it worked so well she ended up in here! Yes, it was _that_ devastating.  
            But it shouldn't have turned out like _this_. Addy shouldn't be in that god-forsaken asylum because of Warse. If anything, she should be in there because of me! _Me_, god damn it!   
            Who has been picking on her and insulting her since her novice days? Me!   
            Who has been harrassing her in every single encounter? Me!   
            Who has been thinking of ways to ruin her happiness in The Schattenjägers? Me!   
            Who has been wanting her to be his ever since the first time he saw her? Me!   
            Me, me, me, me!!   
            Not Warse!!!  
            That priest wouldn't even have known Addy if I didn't set things up in the first place. What? Surprised that the whole meeting was rigged? Don't be. With all the things you've heard about me, you shouldn't expect anything less.  
            Now I should clear some things up. Addy was never interested in Jaded Crimson, it was Warse. But like Diuce said, anyone who _asks_ to be a member of Jaded Crimson must be made to regret it. I told the priest he'd have to prove that he was Jaded Crimson material. So I gave him a _test_.  
            "What do I need to do?" he smirked, trying to match my arrogance. As if that was possible.  
            "Simple, do you know The Schattenjägers?" I asked.  
            "No, but give me a few days and I will."  
            "Great, one of them is what we can call a _weak link_, she's the scrawny orange haired merchant. What you need to do is to get information about The Schattenjägers, and in the process change her."  
            "When I'm successful, what else will I get, aside from the membership?"  
            "Well, if you're as _good_ as you say you are, you can do whatever you want with her. Just keep her alive."  
            "Child's play."  
            "Glad to hear that. We'll meet at Zera's every two weeks, and after six months I'll tell you if you've passed."  
            And then we parted ways.  
  
  
            "The rest is better left up to your imagination, if you have any." Irlan snorted.  
            "Right, thank you so much Mr. Irlan." Darin smiled, allowing the ink to dry on the parchment. He waited until the hunter was out of earshot before giving a huge sigh of relief. 'Sometimes I wonder if this occupation will allow me to reach old age.' The Scribe shuddered.  
            He got to his feet and gave Addy's door a few knocks.  
            "Go away!" Addy yelled, "I don't want to see you, you mean hunter!!"  
            "Miss Addy, it's Dar."  
            "Liar!!! You leave me alone!! Or I'll get Warse to beat you up like he did when we first met you!"  
            "Alright, I'm leaving now." Darin announced, truly heading for the stairs.  
            "Good! Because I-I-I- oh just go!"  
            Scratching his raven-colored hair, Darin went downstairs.  
            "You're leaving already? You normally spend three to five hours a day." The priestess asked in surprise.  
            "Yes, but Miss Addy's not quite herself today."  
            "Well she never really is."  
            "I beg your pardon?"  
            "Oh, never mind, it's not right for me to speak of patients in this manner." She laughed, "Am I to warp you to Prontera?"  
            "No, Lutie."  
            The priestess nodded, "Please come again, your visit is highly appreciated."  
  
            After experiencing the blazing heat of Morroc, the intense cold of Lutie simply overwhelmed The Scribe.  
            "M-m-maybe I sh-sh-should have gotten s-s-something warm before I came here." Darin shivered, quickly running to the Kafra dressed in a black fur coat.  
            "Welcome to er… how did that go?" she blinked in confusion.  
            "N-n-never mind that, I w-w-want to open my s-s-storage box."  
            "What are you withdrawing?"  
            "M-m-muffler and leather c-c-coat."  
            "Here you go."  
            Wasting no time, The Scribe donned the garments and headed for the woods. He was careful in avoiding the wild beasts along the way, but one of the white bears caught his scent and decided it was hungry.  
            "Aaaaaaaa!!!!" Darin yelled, "All I wanted was a collection of tales! Was that so much to ask!?" in his blind panic, he failed to see where he was going and tripped over a santa poring. The sasquatch caught up and took a swipe.  
            To Darin, the world seemed to stop as the bear's paw descended upon him. Eyes wide in horror, The Scribe remained sprawled on the ground and awaited his death. An odd sensation suddenly enveloped him and the sasquatch's razor claws struck against his skin.  
            But rather than hearing his flesh rip apart, a metallic ring sounded.  
            "Here, beast." Came a voice and Darin looked up to find a man wearing a leib olmai coat standing over him.  
            "Mr. Kaedyn!!"  
            "I'll keep the creature occupied while you run to my house."  
            Nodding, Darin bolted for the sanctuary offered him. He risked a glance and saw the sasquatch struggle against his employer.  
            "Thank Odin for Kyrie Eleison." The Scribe praised.


	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
Author's Notes:  
Me: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and commented on my fic ^^ *huggles everyone* Here's the second to the last chapter of Lonely Road.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
            Darin arrived at a small, snow covered house enclosed within solid brick walls. The gate had been left open, and The Scribe bolted across the powdery field until he reached the patio. He collapsed into the house and tried to catch his breath.  
            The living room was sparsley decorated, with only two chairs, a table, a fireplace and a grizzly skin rug as furniture. It lead to another room, which Darin was never allowed to enter. The Scribe assumed it was where his employer slept.  
            When the surge of adrenaline finally stopped, Darin noticed there was no fire blazing in the hearth. He scratched his head a little out of disappointment. The muffler and leather coat were soaked from the snow, and his tweed pants were equally wet. The Scribe began to realize just how cold it was inside, and began to wish he was in Morroc.  
            "Are you hurt?" a deep voice asked from behind him.  
            Darin spun around to find the man in the leib olmai coat with a bloody sasquatch pelt slung over his shoulder. The raven haired man shook his head, a little disturbed at the fact his employer held no weapons.  
            "N-no, Mister K-K-Kaedyn." He answered shivering.  
            Wordlessly, Kaedyn dumped the pelt in a corner and headed to the restricted room. He emerged minutes later, holding a wolf fur jacket. Darin gratefully accepted the dry clothing and the color of his cheeks gradually returned.  
            "You're here for more money?" the man gestured that they be seated.  
            "Oh no, not at all, Mister Kaedyn. I came here to tell you that I'm almost done with the book." Darin answered, "And I have some interesting stories about the Assassin's guild, the Midgard Masquerade, random guild stories and of course The Schattenjägers."  
            "I see. And were you able to…?"  
            "Of course! If there's one thing I pride myself in, other than being able to take things down correctly, is getting stories out of people." The Scribe grinned, "Even those who are not so inclined to speak find my charm irresistible! I'm kidding about the latter of course." He hastilly added.  
            His employer gave a small smile of amusement, "You do have an uncanny talent of making people talk. Now will there be anything else? Because if not please excuse me, I have things to do." Kaedyn began to head outside.   
            "Like pay for Miss Addy's private room in the asylum?" Darin randomly said. The man paused in mid-stride and turned to The Scribe. "I thought your hair was gray, and your eyes were lime colored. I just realized that you have silver hair and bright green eyes."  
            "Are you trying to be devious, Darin?"  
            "No, with you I'll be direct. Mister Kaedyn, you were the only one willing to sponsor me on this endeavour. And in exchange I promised to search for tales involving a certain persimmon haired merchant. I've gathered several stories, some from her directly, some from her former guildmates and some from other people. And more often than not, the name of a certain silver haired priest kept popping up."  
            "Is this what you call being direct?" Kaedyn chuckled.  
            "This is as direct as I get." Darin shrugged, "I told Father Hacky earlier today that I wanted to interview members of the Jaded Crimson." he paused, noticing his employer's clenched fists. "And it's because I believe that every coin has two sides. Meaning I want to hear Miss Addy's story from the priest's perspective. From _your_ perspective."  
            Kaedyn shook his head, "There's no reason to pity me, Darin."  
            "Oh this is not out of pity, Mister Kaedyn. I'm truly serious about wanting your side of the story. If I can handle Mister Irlan's twisted way of thinking, I'm rather certain I can handle yours."  
            "Do you really?" the silver haired man smirked darkly.  
            Swallowing, The Scribe nodded in an attempt to suppress the growing sense of fear. Wordlessly, Kaedyn motioned for Darin to prepare the materials,  
            "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood today." The man grimaced, "Otherwise I would have silenced you."  
            "And I appreciate your generosity very much." Darin nervously chuckled, "All right, I am ready, you may begin any time, Mister Warse."  
            Warse released a deep sigh, and leaned back into his chair thoughtfully. He closed his eyes, and tried his best to retrieve his memories. Those he had been smothering with anger and regret, while feebly justifying his actions.  
            "There is a…"  
  
**Warse Kaedyn  
**  
            "There is a lie to every truth and a truth to every lie. Which is which, is for you to decide." It was my mentor's favorite line, and I live by this every day of my life. We are nothing but lies and truths encased within flesh. Nothing more than solidified deception and candor. Nothing more than walking falsehoods and certainties.  
            Everything we say, everything we feel, everything we do is tainted with its counterpart. A kindness will have a selfish desire buried deep inside it. A brutality will have a self-righteous belief hidden at its core. A mistake stems from good intentions. A favor grows from manipulation. And yet we are condemned for our lack of purity.  
            We hate those who harm us, those who wrong us. We exhault those who indulge us, those who obey us. We hate others for their weakness, while denying our own.   
            We are all hypocrites.  
            May Odin smite me for saying this, but I do not believe in the sanctity of the cloth. I never have, and perhaps I never will. All those years meditating as an acolyte in the abbey served nothing but to affirm my disbelief.  
            "We can never be pure, our duality will not allow it." My mentor told me one day.   
            "So why do we become priests, Father Lie? Why do we engage in all this talk on holiness? Why do we still bother?"  
            "Warse, you ask me these things because you still don't understand."  
            "Oh and _you_ do? Why don't you ever just give me straight answers?"  
            "There are some things that are understood but cannot be explained." He answered sagely. "When you learn what it is you do not know, then you will stop asking me about this."  
            "So asking is a bad thing?"  
            "No," Lie laughed, "asking is never bad. You'll just be asking me about _other_ things."  
            My mentor could read me so well. He was an oriental man, one that had the beauty of ancient wisdom. His eyes were like the richest obsidian silk and his dark hair was always neatly combed back. He was a man who could read the truths in men's hearts, a gift I had also been blessed with.   
            But even with the empathic ability, Father Lie remained a mystery. He was enshrouded in so much knowledge, I couldn't fathom his emotional depths. But my attempts at reading him honed my control of the skill, and soon I could sense the emotions of anyone I wanted.   
            There are those who are as shallow and as small as puddles, they never held my interests for long. People who are backstabbers and scammers, they are all but a small collection of droplets on the cobble-stone street.   
            There are those who are as gentle as streams, their soft, quiet flow easily bored me. People who are conformists, spineless worms that worship anyone more powerful. They congregate together but their fear prevents them from raising their voices.  
            There are those who are as frantic as white water rapids, they could very well have swept me away. People who are fanatics of anything and anyone, even themselves. Their blind passion prevents them from realizing the futility of their empty search.  
            And there are those who are as deep and majestic as oceans, they drew me so much that I feared that I would drown. Their complexity and unpredictability fascinated and at the same time frustrated me to no end. I do not seek these people out, if I did I could never bear to leave them. I have only known two individuals. Father Lie was one of them.  
            Yes, _was_, he has long expired, by my very hands. Don't take this the wrong way, I did not wish him any harm. But he asked me, no, ordered me to battle with him.   
            "But why do this? Why must we battle with each other?"  
            "Empaths aren't meant to wander Rune-Midgard, we are both abominations in the All Father's eyes. And service for the All Father must be done as purely as possible." He explained. "Also… you are still lacking in something. Something I cannot comprehend, save that you will only understand of this through loss."  
            A priest against an acolyte, was the loss Father Lie referred to my life?  
            "Fear not, I shall use nothing but my body. I shall not call upon Odin's protection." He promised. He didn't need to read my heart to know that I was alsp going to abide by his. We were both hybrids, trained for combat against the undead _and_ the living.  
            In the end, I defeated him, up to know I still don't understand how. All I recall was a pain in my chest and a burning blindness in my eyes. When my vision cleared, my mentor was lying on his back, and the ground was turning crimson.  
            "Well done." Father Lie smiled, "I'm glad I have taught you to fight properly. I only pray to the All Father that I have taught your heart just as well."  
            "No… no!! Father Lie, I'm so sorry. What have I done? Hea-"   
            "Lex Divina." He croaked painfully, preventing me from casting the spell. In silence I watched him die, he never physically heard my screams and objections. But I made it felt, to him and to those were unlucky enough to be nearby. When I could speak again, I warped us to the Sunken Ship. Aboard a small, rickety raft, I paddled out and buried him at sea.  
            Father Lie's words kept haunting me, I was still lacking something. And I would only find it through loss. I had already lost my mentor, my friend, my father… had I found it? For a time I believed I did. There was a rage boiling within me, and I thought that was what I lacked. If it was something as simple as hate, did Father Lie really have to die? Was this Odin's will?  
            Because of this I resented the All Father and everything that he stood for. Gradually, I grew corrupt, and exploited humanity's duality to its fullest. With my empathic ability, I lived as someone the church would be ashamed of, _had_ it known.  
            I joined cleansing missions, those that required slaughtering the undead. But I particularly enjoyed the assignments that involved capturing fugitives. I accorded their untimely deaths to their _resistance_.   
            While my blood-lust slept, I sated my carnal hunger. It was at a brothel that I met Irlan, I heard he belonged to a guild composed of socially disgusting members. And I decided I missed having a constant human companion. So I asked him if I could join, the hunter told me I had to pass a test.  
            "What do I need to do?" I smirked. Irlan's emotionally volatile and destructive, I had actually entertained the notion of befriending him.  
            "Simple, do you know The Schattenjägers?"  
            "No, but give me a few days and I will."  
            As he explained my task, I could sense something underhanded emanating from him. Emotions can only give me so much, I couldn't read minds. Had I known what his true plan was, I would never have agreed. Irlan never intended to approve my membership, not that it matters anymore. The information I was to gather for him was a cover up, he only wanted to destroy her.  
            The encounter with the merchant had been arranged by Irlan. It was near Prontera, he was taunting her, mocking her abilities.  
            "Why don't you just run back to your guildmates and cry?" he sneered.  
            "I bet you've had lots of practice doing that." She retorted.  
            They continue to argue, the malice from Irlan was as intense as the dislike from the merchant. Finally, she decided to end the conversation and promptly turned her back on Irlan.  
            "Double Straffe!!" he yelled, aiming at the girl. She spun around in horror, and as the projectile soared towards her, I entered. A quick Kyrie Eleison was in order and the arrow recoiled off the barrier.  
            I positioned myself between the stunned girl and the hunter, "Your kind sickens me."  
            "Oh? And what are you going to do about it?" he smirked.  
            "I'm going to let my actions speak for me."  
            Before he could say anything, I attacked. I needed no weapon to defeat the hunter, it proved easy enough. He was never meant to engage in hand-to-hand combat, I was. I dealt a final uppercut and knocked him unconscious. He was bed-ridden for at least a week after that.  
            I turned to the merchant, and asked her if she was hurt. I held out my hand and helped her to her feet.  
            "N-no, I'm fine. Thank you for helping me." She blushed, smoothing out her clothes. I read her heart, and found I was gaining her trust. I didn't have to say anything to get her identity, she volunteered the information.  
            "I'm Addy Evional." She said, offering her hand. I knew women like her yearned to be wooed, so I brought her hand to my lips.  
            "Warse Kaedyn." I answered with a smile. When I turned to leave, she called out and asked if I could accompany her to Geffen. Thus began the deception within truth, and the truth within deception.  
            Now, I had mentioned that I have only met two oceans, and I believe one of them is in the asylum. She was like Father Lie, only more… open. With my mentor, I had to pry open gate after gate, climb over wall after wall. With her, I only had to gently knock and she would let me in.  
            Greedily, I dove into her heart, and submerged myself in the myriad of her sensations. She was profoundly simple and utterly complex, perpetually open and unconsciously closed. She was the sweet and the bitter, the wretched and the beloved, the innocent and the perverse. And…   
            She was _mine_.  
            It has been little over two years since I last heard from her or even merely stood in her presence. I am barred from enterring the asylum but not by the Kafras or by the church. This denial of passage is self-imposed. A sort of penance to pay for my sins.  
            I am not worthy of speaking to her, or even seeing her face. And I don't understand why. She's not the first woman I've wounded. She's not the first woman I left in a web of despair. She's not the first woman whose heart I've played with.   
            But she will be the last. I didn't know when, I didn't know how, but at some point, I stopped _playing_ the role of lover and truly _became_ it.  
            When that happened, I lost all interest in the Jaded Crimson. I had forgotten about my anger and resentment, about Father Lie, and about the loss I am meant to suffer. But I had never forgotten about humanity's duality.  
            Old habits die hard, and that part of me wanted Addy in her entirety. Irlan had promised I could have her, and Odin knows how much I wanted take her. I wanted to hear her scream my name in feral hunger, to taste her sweet ambrosia mingling on my tongue, to feel her bare flesh against mine, to be inside her completely. Heart, mind, and body.  
            Yet… I couldn't bring myself to go farther than a kiss. It wasn't as if she didn't desire me that way, and society's judgement held no importance for me. I don't know why, I _couldn't_ know why I chose to sate myself with common harlots.   
            The women who were tainted by other people's perverse notions, by life's injustice, by the desperation to live. In them I found horror within beauty and beauty within horror, a weakness in the strong and a strength in the weak, suppression within freedom and freedom within suppresion. Those women in the brothels, they didn't matter to me. Whenever I went into their arms all I could think about was myself, how I would use their body to satisfy me.   
            When I realized this, I knew what it was that held me back from Addy. I wanted her so badly, but I wouldn't dare give myself to her. I didn't want her to know me the way I knew her. I couldn't afford to let her find out who I _was_ before I met her. I was too worried I might lose her.  
            And it… terrified me.   
            The idea that I could not bear to be without her was unnerving. Had I completely lost myself to her when I read her heart? Was she the part of me that I lacked, the proverbial _other half_ that so many bards sing of? I shouldn't have been so blind, so stupid, or so cowardly. I chose to be who I was, rather than who I could be.  
            When I realized this, I stopped giving Irlan any information. In fact, I stopped meeting him altogether and I went through great lengths to avoid him. But our encounter was inevitable.  
            "Where's the information you promised to get? We had a deal, priest!" Irlan was angry, I didn't need to be an empath to see that.  
            "Deal's off, Irlan. I don't want to be a member of the Jaded Crimson any longer."  
            "You can't blow off the guild so easily!" he growled.  
            "I believe I just did."  
            "You're going to regret it, priest." Irlan was grinning wickedly as he left.  
            I should have seen it coming but I was such an overconfident fool. Irlan had set a trap for me, and I fell for it. I should have sensed it, there was something that felt out of place.  
            Malice, resentment, anger, I only thought Irlan was busy imagining how we would battle. Then a spiteful glee emerged in his heart. Addy was there, and he was going to tell her everything.  
            Father Lie's words came back to haunt me that day. My mentor didn't say I was going to _find_ what I lacked, but _understand_ what it was. I knew everyone's hearts, I could read them so easily, but I couldn't say the same for myself. All this time I had been so caught up in others, that I failed to see my own emotions. Fahter Lie said I would only be able to realize this through a loss. I just never thought it would be Addy.  
            I told her I loved her that day, it was the first time, the last time, the only time I would utter those words. When I told her this, Irlan kept laughing. I set Addy down in a safe corner.  
            "Wait for me." I told her, "I'll be quick."  
            My vision seemed to blurr as I turned to the hunter and there was a sharp pain in my chest. The next thing I knew, I held a bruised and bloody Irlan by the neck, and I was slowly squeezing his life out. There came a scream, nothing like I've ever heard before. It was pitiful, inconsolable, and desperate, yet it was exquisite, serene, and jubilant.   
            "Addy?" I gasped, momentarily forgetting about the hunter.  
            "Where's my Warse?" she asked with a crooked smile.  
            "I'm right here…" I blinked, gently taking her into my arms. She recoiled at my touch, her heart held nothing but confusion and something else. I didn't have enough time to read her further as Irlan dealt a hammer blow to the back of my head.  
            "We're not done yet, priest!" he snarled through grit teeth. By the time I finished pummeling the hunter to the ground, Addy had gone.  
  
  
            "That was the last time I laid eyes on her. Tell me Darin, how does she look like now?"  
            "Well from what I hear from other people, her hair has grown longer and she has lost a little weight. But her huggles are still the same." The Scribe replied.  
            Warse laughed, "Ah yes, her huggles, Odin knows how much I miss them. No one else could constrict breathing the way she could."  
            "So I take it that the only reason you employed me to gather tales was to check up on Miss Addy?"  
            "You must be a mind reader." The priest chuckled, "Now if you'll excuse me, I really do have matters to attend to."  
            "Oh, yes, thank you so much for your time. The next time I return I'll give you a copy of my manuscript. There are two of them actually."  
            "Why two?"  
            "Let's just say one will contain more _personal_ tales."  
            "If you say so." The empath chuckled, placing a Biretta of Gemstone on his head. "Do you need a warp to Prontera?"  
            "Ah… yes, if it's alright." Darin replied sheepishly.  
            "Actually, now that I think about it, I could just let the sasquatch have you for a meal."  
            The Scribe's eyes grew saucer wide and dropped his things on the floor.  
            "No, maybe not. I don't think I'll be able to find another scribe with your talents." Warse chuckled and opened a warp portal. Wasting no time, Darin gathered his things and leapt into the glowing pillar of light.


	10. Epilogue

Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.  
  
Author's Notes:  
Me: Gah, I hope I don't ruin the whole fic with this ending _ I'm open for suggestions and comments, so feel free to email me or place it in the review. Great big huggles go to Yasutsuna for all those SMS ^^ to aphrodite24goddess for all those wonderful reviews :D and to everyone who read my fic. Couldn't have gotten this far without you ^^  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
            As in every tale, there is always something added or missing. As in every speaker, there is always a bias for or against a perspective. Perhaps the duality that the empath speaks of is evident within each of the gathered story that The Scribe has collected. Perhaps… save for one such tale. It was to have been written through a witness' eyes, from a spectator's neutral perception, and with a victim's denied memory.  
            Inside the Mjolnir insane asylum, a toffee haired acolyte was speaking with her superior.  
            "Are you certain that there's nothing we can do?" she asked.  
            "I'm afraid so Bernice, no potion, no healing spell can force Miss Evional out of her reverie." The priestess sighed.  
            "I thought she was doing so much better, she's been getting the dates of some events correctly. She was actually beginning to come to terms with herself."  
            "Yes, it's a shame, Mister Carsen's last visit proved quite… catastrophic for Miss Evional."  
            "It's time to go check on Miss Evional again, maybe she'll surprise us all with a full recovery today?" Bernice smiled hopefully as she went up to the merchant's room.  
            "Good afternoon Miss Evional." The acolyte greeted, "How are you feeling?"  
            Addy said nothing, she merely stared at Bernice emptily.  
            "You don't feel like talking? That's alright, I'm sure you'll find something you'll want to share with me soon. Right now we-" she was cut off as the merchant handed her a rolled up parchment.  
            "Oh my, did Mister Carsen forget this? No wonder you look so upset."  
            The merchant turned away from the healer and remained silent.  
            "Well then, I'll just give this to Mister Carsen once he returns for another visit."  
            Bernice performed a routinary check on Addy's condition, everything seemed fine, except for the fact that she refused to answer any question or make idle chatter. Once finished, the acolyte had a small frown on her face. It was unusual to see Addy quiet, this further emphasized by her lack of emotion.  
            "You wouldn't mind if I read this, would you?" Bernice asked, sitting herself on the bed. "Silence means yes." She teased, hoping to elicit some response. Her words, sadly, fell on deaf ears. The acolyte shrugged and unrolled the parchment.  
  
  
            A female merchant stood before a seedy mansion hidden in the backstreets of Prontera. She looked up at the looming building warily with her gray eyes and tucked her persimmon hair behind her ears. Warping to the capital of Rune-Midgard was costly, but the request asked of her sounded urgent.   
            She was in Geffen earlier that day, stocking up on blue, red and yellow gems. Being alone felt a bit awkward for her, but her lover had been called away to handle some confidential matters. As she loaded her cart with an armful of gems, an exhausted courier approached her.   
            She was given a message claiming that her immediate presence in Prontera was required. A note containing the location of the meeting point was included but there was no indication of who it came from. At first she was hesitant in answering the request, but the courier's desperation managed to persuade her.  
            Even if she didn't want to continue, it was too late to turn back now. The merchant took a deep breath, hoped for the best and went inside. From the outside, she had expected grime covered floors, cracked ceilings and peeling walls. It came as quite a surprise that the interior was quite the opposite. Expensive furniture decorated the foyer, oil paintings hung on every wall, and the marble floor could actually serve as a relfective surface.  
            "May I help you?" a sultry baritone voice asked.  
            The merchant was startled to find it was an olive skinned man wearing only black cotton pants and leather shoes that greeted her. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of his bare muscular chest but the memory of her lover made her look away.  
            "I was summoned here via courier." She explained, averting her gaze from his body.  
            "Ah, you must be Madame Addy. Come, come, he is expecting you." The man smiled seductively, ushering the embarrassed merchant out of the foyer.   
            The long hallway they walked along was no less exquisite with the rug beneath their feet being made from eclipse fur. Four doors lined the walls of the hallway with bronze plaquards hanging above the wooden portals.  
            "Brilight, Creamy Fear, ah, here we are." The man declared, "Please wait inside the Dark Frame room." The man gave a low bow and a knowing wink before departing.  
            Addy entered the room, apparently it wasn't called "Dark Frame" for nothing. While she could barely see her hand in front of her face, she'd rather not wait in the doorway. Carefully, she felt along the walls, trying to find something to anchor herself to. Her fingers suddenly touched some sort of fabric, 'Is it a sheet?' she wondered.  
            As she pulled at it, a few rays of light filtered in. "It's a curtain!" she realized, "Maybe there's something I can use to tie it up." Her palm brushed against a cord and when she yanked it, the curtains suddenly parted. Brightness flooded the darkened room through a full length window, and once her eyes adjusted to the light, her jaw fell open in shock.  
            A voluptuous emerald haired dancer was running her slender fingers on a fully clothed man's chest. Her luscious ruby lips were locked on his neck and he was slowly discarding the gossamer scarf around her waist. The sight of the woman being stripped was not the cause of Addy's distress. It was because the man was a silver haired priest with bright green eyes.  
            Silently, Addy observed as Warse caressed the body of the dancer. The woman's moans of pleasure sliced into her heart and the sight of the intimate contact tore into her mind. She watched in fascinated disgust, as the two began to kiss deeply, passionately, hungrily. In her intense concentration, she failed to hear the door open.  
            "Enjoying the show?" Irlan whispered into the dumbstruck merchant's ear. "I've always wanted to tell you how often I see him here. But you looked so happy, I just couldn't bear to burst your bubble."  
            "This can't be happening…"  
            "Oh but it is." He hissed, pressing Addy's face closer to the glass, closer to the scene of Warse's carnal pleasure. "The gentle, holy priest you've fallen madly in love with is in fact a lust-driven fiend. You surprised him by denying your body, so he satisfies his frustration here, _every single night_."  
            "You're lying!!!" the merchant shrieked. With the dancer's gasps of ecstacy pulsating in the air, Addy couldn't help but close her eyes and cover her ears.  
            "He spent so much time trying to get on your good side just to weaken your resolve."  
            "That's not true… Warse loves me…" She sobbed.  
            "Does he? Warse is the kind of guy who enjoys playing with words, hiding behind the veil of deception until he gets what he wants." Irlan smirked, and then suddenly grabbed Addy by her forearms. "Forget the priest, forget the Schattenjägers, forget the whole world. _I_ should be the only one who will matter to you, now."  
            The merchant's brows knitted together in confusion. What did Irlan mean by that? She couldn't understand, she couldn't think, she couldn't even breathe. She had to know why her Warse was here, and there was no way she would accept the hunter's twisted explanation. There must be a good reason why the silver haired priest was here…   
            There just _had_ to be!   
            Addy shoved Irlan away and started pounding her fists against the window.  
            "Warse! You have to come out here and tell Irlan it's not true!! That you do love me! That… that… you have another reason why you're with that woman! Warse!"  
            The hunter laughed, "He can't hear you through that. And besides, even if he could, he won't listen to you. Not until he's finished with her, that is."  
            Twin rivers flowed down Addy's cheek as she continued to call out to the priest. The hunter only shook his head and leaned back against the wall. Desperate, the merchant pulled out a bag filled with a thousand zenny. It was Irlan's turn to yell, as the female merchant used her most powerful attack.  
            "Mammonite!!"  
            The coins dissolved into energy and wrapped themselves around her fists. She barraged the thick window until it shattered. Deadly shards flew straight for the silver haired man. Gray eyes grew wide as blood spurted in torrents. A rain of slivers impaled themselves onto the soft, supple flesh of the emerald haired dancer. The priest had noticed the incoming danger and used the prostitute as a shield.  
            "Why?" Addy whimpered, her own fists were bleeding.  
            "What are you doing here, Addy? How did you find me?" Warse demanded, pushing the dead woman off him.   
            Addy said nothing, her heart hurt too much.  
            "You didn't think I'd have forgotten about that time, priest?" Irlan sneered.  
            "This wasn't part of the deal." Warse growled, narrowing his green eyes angrily.  
            "What… deal? What are you talking about?" Addy demanded.  
            "I think it's time I shed the light on our not-so-innocent pawn. Warse here is only after The Schattenjägers' secrets. The techniques, the wealth and the abilities of your guildmates were the only things he wanted." The hunter snickered.  
            "You're going too far." Warse warned.  
            "And that's not all." Irlan announced, "When he gets what he needs, he was going to tell me everything. All because he wanted to be a member of the Jaded Crimson."  
            "I don't believe this… this is just… these are just… lies!! All lies!! Tell him Warse!! Tell him that he's lying! Tell him that you wouldn't do such a thing! Please, oh please. Tell _me_ that you're not really who Irlan says you are!" Addy cried.  
            "But he is!" Irlan sneered, "All he really wants is to be a member of our guild, that and to fuck you senseless. Isn't that right Wa-" the hunter was cut off by a fist connecting with his jaw.  
            "That's more than enough." The priest growled menacingly.   
            "Oh, so you want to resume that battle, priest?" Irlan spat, "I let you beat me to deepen Addy's trust with you. But this time, it's different!"   
            "Not likely." Warse glared. "Wait for me." He told Addy, "I'll be quick."  
            The merchant sank to her knees amidst the blood-streaked shards of glass. In their reflection, she could see the prostitute's lifeless gaze staring at her.  
            _We're the same, you and I… we're both going to die alone and unloved, at the hand of a man who doesn't care._ The woman seemed to say.  
            "No, no! I refuse to accept that!" Addy declared. The female merchant clung to her resolve adamantly. It was her last shred of hope in Warse, in their relationship, in the idea that she could love and be loved.  
            It was because of the wanton denial that Addy reconstructed her life. It was the false truth that Addy completely embraced. It was because of the submission that Addy lost her mind. And it was in the madness that Addy found paradise.  
  
  
            Bernice wordlessly rolled up the parchment into a tight tube.  
            "Maybe we shouldn't let Mister Carsen have this." She whispered, "Unless of course, you really want me to give it to him."  
            Addy stared blankly at the acolyte and answered "Fine."  
  


_Fin_


End file.
